grapevine
by Ferdinand with Flowers
Summary: rumour has it; you ate your uncle at thanskgiving and your aunt at christmas ///Allison centirc///


A long time ago. A long long time ago. A long (long long) time ago (mind you, and if you will, imagine it.)

She remembers a family of children and adults. They all sit at a table in the glutinous time of Thanksgiving, all members of their dysfunctional family.

Allison remembers more than seven children, and more than two adults.

They were all as Monocle defined, in that eloquent, non-flamboyant (non-fagot) way of his, as 'Gifted.' Each one having something the other did not. Although Allison could make that out herself just by looking at number 00.01.

They were all family, through thick and thin and that- Fuck don't use your powers at the table you fucktwit.

And everyone would laugh as Monocle would slam his fist down against the table and scold one of the precious members of the family.

She can't really recall who he scolded, someone she knew, or someone who was just eroded out of their memory by an outside power. She can actually believe that.

She'd laugh through her anxiety, caused by sitting next to an uncle who always rubbed her leg the right/wrong way.

She could use her powers, but then, the Monocle would get pissed because she embarrassed him in front of the family.

A pissed Monocle is bad news.

And besides, it's not as if she didn't like the attention he gave her.

* * *

Before the child, she can feel the loneliness chilled in her bones. That was how the adult Allison Hargreeves spent some of her Thanksgivings. Alone in bed, with no one to admire or believe or compliment her.

She hated being with her family because, well, they were all freaks and she wanted to feel normal once in her life. And besides, it was such a small family that was hard to get together; she'd probably be alone anyways.

She did meet a pretty boy a few weeks ago, but they hadn't gotten to know each other well enough to really introduce family members yet. Allison had said no when he invited her over for Thanksgiving. She told him she'd rather be alone than introduced as a useless trophy fucktoy. He just shrugged and left. And she felt she L-worded the man then and there.

* * *

Allison was soon knocked up and had a small little girl. She would stare at the face of the small child, asleep in her crib, with quiet curiosity. And that Thanksgiving, the child's first, was the best Thanksgiving Allison had ever had. She shooed Patrick away, the man she has suspected of cheating, to be with his family.

She wanted to be alone with her child, to play and watch and just enjoy her little Claire. She ended up playing with Claire, watching her eat, and enjoying the rapturous laughter of her little 'rumor.'

At the end of the day, they slept. Both in a queen sized bed, Claire snuggling into the warm embrace of her mother.

Through the turkey-induced darkness, she realized that she found something that she loved more than herself.

Although she'll never say this out loud.

* * *

A couple of years later, when Claire was a lovely little splitting image of her mother (and endowed with the personality of her dear mother), Allison was surprised with a laminated post card around November. It was of an image of an anthropomorphic turkey wailing about being cut in half by a chainsaw. She had to smile as she read the text, in blood soaked letters, 'Thanksgiving: Hargreeves Family Reunion.'

She might go this year. She remembers a promise she made to an uncle who wanted to see her niece.

* * *

Allison is at the mansion now. She hated (and loved) the mansion that continues to haunt her dreams with memories of little children running around and being innocent.

He's there, and Claire immediately takes a liking to him. It's funny because Claire hardly likes anyone.

There are more people than she expected, and Allison introduces herself to new acquaintances. She forgets some of their names, but remembers exactly who they are. And she remembers some of their names, but forgets that they ever existed.

It's like that for everyone here. She's not the only one.

They all sit down for the feast, Claire sitting down next to her mama and an old wrinkled man sitting down next to Claire. And so on and so forth, but Allison just looks at the old man, and feels a familiar rush of anxiety and a familiar touch of her leg.

She watches the old man like a hawk, and when he starts to rub Claire's leg, she wants to scream.

They were all family, through thick and thin and that- Fuck don't use your powers at the table you fucktwit.

And everyone laughed as 00.01 slammed his fist down against the table and scolds one of the precious members of the family. It was all in good memory.

She can't really tell who he is scolding, someone she knows, or someone who was just eroded out of their memory by an outside power. She can _still_ actually believe that.

Claire looks awfully uncomfortable and anxious in her Sunday best. And Allison can't take it.

Allison could use her powers, and hey, there was no Monocle to piss off anymore. She could just get away with it.

She gets up from the seat, and walks with that sinuous runway model walk of hers over to that disgusting old man. As Allison wraps a bare arm around the neck of the old man, his hand shoots up from under the table(loin)cloth. Claire could only put her head down in shame.

Allison's poison pink lips twist into a smile as people are starting to watch them now. They neglect 00.01's long and boring monologue, and the old man is sweating, and Allison doesn't care.

She wants revenge. Her lips purse next to a tattered old ear.

"Rumor has; it you're the turkey dinner," There's silence as Allison losses her grasp on the old man.

Then all members of the family pounce on the old man, tearing him limb from limb like hungry hyenas. Teeth sink into flesh as the man screams, although to Allison it sounds like the wailing of a turkey.

Allison just sits there on her seat, watching the enfolding madness with delight. On her lap is a restrained Claire, eyes ablaze and stomach rumbling. She's a little disappointed that she can't join the feeding frenzy because of the loving embrace of her mother.

Allison's lips purse next to a child's petty ear.

"Rumor has it; I'll always love you,"

It's more of a promise really, and she's sure she doesn't need her powers to make it true.

* * *

**Happy Thanksgiving**

**disclaimer  
and  
concrit greatly appreciated**


End file.
